


freeze, freeze thou bitter sky

by ashes_of_roses (KendraLuehr)



Series: Ben/Anna [3]
Category: Turn (TV 2014)
Genre: Bad Puns, Banter, F/M, Fanart, Fluff and Angst, Friendship, Friendship/Love, Kissing, Romantic Friendship, Sassy, Snow, Snowball Fight, Some Humor, Winter, broody Ben, cuz everyone needs that right?, of ben getting whacked in the face by a snowball, or at least there's fan art inside at the end
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-14
Updated: 2020-12-14
Packaged: 2021-03-11 03:33:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,694
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28068594
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KendraLuehr/pseuds/ashes_of_roses
Summary: Ben had never liked snow. The warmth of her hands, however slight, brought an unexpected thaw to his heart.Or, Anna wrangles Ben into a snowball fight.
Relationships: Anna Strong & Benjamin Tallmadge, Anna Strong/Benjamin Tallmadge
Series: Ben/Anna [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2059155
Comments: 8
Kudos: 43
Collections: 12 Days of Turn 2020





	freeze, freeze thou bitter sky

**Author's Note:**

> This is my contribution for the 12 Days of Turn 2020 prompt on Tumblr! https://culper-spymaster.tumblr.com/post/634162864325853184/ I cheated a bit and posted now instead of 12/20. I'll behave myself and post on the appropriate day on Tumblr, but I really wanted this up now so it can be read during most of December. I've rated this T for language, mostly...albeit 18th century language lol.
> 
> I haven't participated in an event like this in years, so I hope you all enjoy! :)
> 
> P.S. The title is from William Shakespeare's poem "Blow, Blow Thou Winter Wind." The message of that poem has nothing to do with this fic at all -- I just really loved the wintry imagery! It's also been made into a beautiful song by John Rutter: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=180PZsJCxoY&ab_channel=JohnRutter

Ben had never liked snow. It was cold, biting, _miserable,_ and almost always brought about death and contagion to many an unfortunate victim. Now with the war as a backdrop, and a general lack of provisions, it had also tacked on the very real fear of frostbite and churchyard cough. Any time he heard someone give that dry, rattling wheeze, Ben could sense death nipping at their heels.

_Death was all around them._

And yet, in spite of that ever-present terror, the worst thing to endure was assuredly the slowness of December. Winter was a time of waiting. The men were granted a small reprieve from battle due to the extreme cold, but Ben found it to be a time of madness. There was no joy in being left alone with his thoughts – of spending more and more time locked up inside his own head.

As the years passed, war had ravaged his thoughts and plagued them, eating away at his mental supports until they became loose and warped, much like rotted floorboards. Things fell apart…he knew that – he’d _seen_ that, and yet he couldn’t accept that it could possibly be happening to his _very own soul._ The destruction made Ben feel ugly, and he never felt uglier than in the heart of winter. With nature reflecting the death and decay on the battlefield, how could he possibly find hope in the cause? He believed in it – he _knew_ he did, and yet there was always that one small seedling of doubt. It was a noxious, fertile seed, and each spring, he stamped it out with the thaw.

Sitting at his desk, Ben shakily set his quill aside and ducked his face into his hands. He rubbed his palms over his stubbled cheeks, slowly, then released a breath and lifted his head again. He didn’t know why he’d bothered writing home. As much as he loved and valued family, he knew there had to be resentment since he’d opted to stay at camp. Many soldiers’ contracts had expired. It was a common occurrence – most had to be renewed every one to three years – and yet Ben was loyal to a fault. If anyone had to stay behind, he’d long since resolved that _he_ would stay behind, as well. He didn’t think it fair that he should enjoy the warmth of home if others were unable to return.

A throat cleared then and he jerked, startled.

 _“This_ is what you’ve ignored breakfast for, is it?” Stepping into the tent, Anna hummed disapprovingly. “Why, I can practically see the smoke coming from your ears. It must be a very important task.”

Self-conscious, Ben curled over his letter and scowled. “Leave me be, Anna.”

She scoffed, and then he heard the whisper of her skirts as she approached. “In case you’ve forgotten, I don’t take too kindly to orders, _Major.”_

“Believe me, your sheer _impudence_ is plenty proof of that.” Shaking his head, Ben turned his attention back to his letter and scanned the words. They felt wrong – _false_ – and as he reached for his quill again, he gave a jolt whenever she yanked his breeches out to an inappropriate degree.

“For God’s _sake,_ Anna, what are you-?!”

The following slap of cold against skin brought him straight up from his seat. Mortified, he spun in the direction of his assailant, only to find Anna doubled over with laughter. She held her fingerless gloves to her mouth, tears pricking her eyes as she practically sobbed from mirth.

“You…you should see your face,” she choked out, howling with glee. “Perhaps Caleb was right. Maybe you truly _are_ a virgin!”

Ben was at a loss for words. Anna’s loud, musical laughter echoed through his tent, and despite the cold, uncomfortable wetness blooming through his breeches – not to mention, the sheer _horror_ he felt from her observation – Ben’s lips quirked of their own accord.

“In case you've forgotten, I have quite an adept throwing arm,” he reminded her. “Do you not recall playing ball as children? Abe had to ice his hand on more than one occasion.”

There wasn’t much snow inside his quarters, yet Ben quickly bent to gather up a handful of powdery white.

Anna immediately realized her mistake. She yelped and bolted, lifting the flap before making her escape.

It was considered uncouth to run through camp – _unseemly_ for a soldier – but with most cooped up in their encampments or back home with family, Ben was able to overthrow proper decorum and go barreling after her.

Anna’s scarf and skirts whipped around her as she moved, and her laughter bounced back at him, enveloping him in what could only be described as a warm embrace. Ben had always loved Anna’s laughter. He so rarely heard it these days.

At long last, they reached a clearing and faced-off.

Anna held up a warning finger, though her grin was unmistakable. “Don’t you dare, Benjamin Tallmadge,” she warned. He lifted his arm and she shrieked, holding up her palms. “Don’t. You. _Dare!”_

He laughed. “You just iced my arse, and yet _I’m_ the one in the wrong here?” He shook his head. “I think it only fair that you be held accountable for accosting an officer.”

“Oh, _please!”_ He fired off his round of snow, and Anna easily avoided it, ducking down to gather up a new arsenal.

Quick to follow suit, Ben followed her example and lunged for a handful of snow. Unfortunately, he wasn’t fast enough. Anna’s next snowball careened right into the side of his head.

_Ballocks._

Knocked slightly off-kilter, he raised his arm to fire off his own wad of snow, only to receive another burst of powdery white to the face. Anna howled with laughter, and despite the spike of irritation in his breast, her warmth – her _joy_ – was more than enough to keep his frustration at bay. He’d take a million snowballs to the face, should it mean seeing her smile.

Nevertheless, he _was_ a competitive sort, so he didn’t exactly plan on letting her win.

While she staggered with breathless delight, Ben knelt down and lobbed an arc of snow in Anna’s direction. The icy blast burst against her skirts, and sent a shimmering layer of white over her clothing. Outraged, her mouth dropped and she scrambled to grab another handful of snow.

Ben laughed at her desperation.

Irritated by his response, Anna quickly hurled another icy ball of slush. It skimmed off Ben’s shoulder and smacked right against his ear.

“Bloody hell,” he snarled. “That _hurt!”_

“Oh, for goodness sake!” Stooping to fetch more snow, she jeered, “For being such an invaluable soldier, you’re quite the little chit!”

Ben scoffed. “I am a _Major-”_

“Major pain in the arse, yes, yes, I know.”

Despite the quip being made at his expense, Ben had to laugh. “You’re accosting a Continental soldier. I could have you court-martialed.”

“Oh-ho, _could_ you now? I’m certain _that_ would win you many dinner invitations.” Rolling her eyes, she avoided another one of his haphazard throws. “Goodness! I certainly hope your aim is much better on the battlefield.”

“Would you stop belittling me? I have half a mind to actually try!”

 _“This_ is you pretending not to try? Because yes, Ben: _please_ try! Give me a worthy opponent!” With a grin, she tossed a mound of snow and yelped whenever one of his throws finally, _finally_ made a decent mark.

Ben sneered while forming another wad of snow. “What was that you said about trying?”

“It’s called _luck,_ Benjamin – not talent!” Brushing the snow off her chest, she looked up just as a giant snowball burst across her face. With a shriek, her arms pinwheeled about, and then she fell flat on her bottom.

Ever gallant, Ben rushed over to help. “I do apologize,” he said, yet his concern was undermined by the sly, lopsided grin that lit up his entire face. “Here,” he said, extending his hand, “let me help you up.”

Anna huffed, blowing an errant lock of hair from her face. Grudgingly, she took hold of his hand. Though the moment their eyes locked, Ben instantly realized his mistake when, with a mighty tug, she sent him hurtling down over top of her into the snow.

She burst into another fit of laughter, her free hand smacking a wad of snow right over his head. His hair was quickly loosening from its ribbon, and golden strands fell into his eyes as he wrestled with her against the ground.

“You _doggess,”_ he growled, but without any true malice.

Anna laughed brightly. “Do you really want to call me names when my knee is _this close_ to your nutting bag?”

The threat was sobering, and Ben faltered, holding loosely onto her wrists. Neither of them moved. He remained sprawled out over top of her, breathing heavily as his breath lifted in pale, wispy clouds that caught between their lips.

Finally, something changed in Anna’s eyes. There was a softness – a _warmth_ – and he felt it in his bones, even as she lifted her hands and framed his stubbled cheeks. She almost appeared ethereal in the morning sunlight, golden, _glowing,_ and he could no longer ignore the compulsion to touch her.

Gripping at her shoulders, Ben easily fell into the giving rush of her mouth. With her lips on his and her hands in his disheveled hair, the ability to pretend suddenly became effortless. And as he pressed her down into the biting snow, there _was_ no war – no pain, no death, no _suffering._

Anna’s gloved hands were warm on his face, and the sweet pressure of her mouth even warmer still. He could feel her lashes dusting against his cheek, much like a butterfly’s wing, and he curled his fingers through her hair to anchor her there against him, refusing to let go of the _one good thing_ he’d felt all winter – all _year._

With a breathless chuckle, Anna whispered, “Well now, I suppose that’s one way to win a snowball fight.”

Ben grinned and pulled her back into his arms. Just like the melting snow on the ground, his guarded heart slowly started to thaw.

* * *

**Author's Note:**

> Welp, I tried! haha I wanted to include fan art too, cuz having Ben socked in the face was the main reason I wrote this in the first place (I love him, but that was just a really funny mental image to me). Anyway, below is my Tumblr, as well as a few of the slang terms. I have a couple other Ben/Anna fics on my page, if interested!
> 
>  **My Tumblr:** http://musicboxmemories.tumblr.com/
> 
>  **18th century slang featured:**  
>  churchyard couch: a cough that is likely to end in death  
> chit: infant  
> ballocks: balls  
> nutting bag: ...also balls lol  
> doggess: "polite" way of saying bitch
> 
> Wow, this was just the "perfect" slew of holiday-friendly language, haha. Oh well.


End file.
